Thunder roared as rain fell hard
Upon the convent chapel.
While solemn nuns, in deepest prayer,
Waged forth a silent battle.
Their heads were bowed; their souls were sad,
So heavy were their hearts.
The Papal seat was empty and
They had to do their part.
The Pope was gone and conclave on;
With cardinals all invested.
The Sistine Chapel was the scene,
The Holy Ghost requested.
With Vespers said they headed out,
Drawn to the square to quench their thirst,
Black smoke their only dread.
With cobblestones for slips and slides,
Their habits soon were wet.
But shortly in the space of time,
A sight they’d not forget.
A cry went up, veiled heads did too,
White smoke was what they saw!
They raised a voice in praise of God,
And stared through tears in awe.
Then lights came on and drapes pulled back.
They heard the cardinal shout,
“Habemus Papam” were the words,
The Pope would soon walk out!
As crowds begin to rush the square
Saint Peter’s bells were heard!
The Papal throne was finally filled,
A name had been conferred!
The crowd grew still, the rain had stopped,
And soon the Pope emerged.
Amid the cries and shouts of joy,
The nuns and crowds converged.
With Pater Noster then Ave,
His blessing in refrain,
Nuns folded their umbrellas up,
No longer in the rain.
~ Donna Sue Berry ~
March 18, 2013